I Won't Sleep Tonight
by imperfectromance
Summary: Scott's oblivious, Jackson's a son of a bitch, Erica and Lydia are made of pure evil, Stiles understands the appeal of secret relationships, Derek steals kisses, and Sheriff Stilinski has connections. Rated M for safety, but really it's just a fluffy one-shot.


Scott was oblivious to most things. All the things. Whatever. Stiles didn't mind. They were best friends and had been since, like, the first grade. It didn't phase him anymore, and he was used to having to repeat himself an hour later.

So when he and Derek started stealing kisses (okay, so it was more like _Derek_ started stealing kisses), he wasn't counting on Scott figuring it out until he was ready to come clean. Because, seriously, he finally got the appeal of secret relationships. He and Derek had been getting hot and heavy on his bed and his dad or Scott or, on two occasions, Lydia, nearly walking in on them enough times for Stiles to enjoy the fluttery feeling of almost getting caught. And, okay, maybe the time in the locker room where the team was showering and getting ready outside of the stall was cutting it a bit close, but he hadn't thought about that until after Derek's hands had left his ass and Derek's back had already-healing nail marks and his pants were back up on his hips and buttoned.

Stiles was pretty sure Jackson knew. Because Jackson was a sneaky son of a bitch and had walked right past the Camaro once when Stiles was giving Derek head and Derek was too far gone to sense his presence. But he never said anything and so they brushed it off. Sometimes, though, Stiles would look down the lunch table (which used to contain just him and Scott and the occasional Allison, but now the entire pack sat with them, including the only-just-found-out-about-werewolves-and-still-freaking-out Danny) and Jackson would be smiling this secret smile while Lydia was rambling about physics or calculus. Derek shook his head at Stiles' suspicions, though, saying that if Jackson knew, he'd be shouting it through the halls.

Scott started sniffing him three months into the relationship or whatever he and Derek were. And Stiles _freaked _out. He'd woken up late this morning and was unable to take a shower to try and scrub the scent of Derek off his skin (Derek hated this, but knew that Stiles wasn't ready to come out to his friends yet so he didn't complain. Much.) But Scott just laughed and said that they'd been spending too much time at the half-restored Hale house if Stiles was starting to stink of Derek.

* * *

It was another month when someone actually discovered them, though. Derek was spent, passed out on Stiles' bed, naked and uncovered, and Stiles was on his laptop next to him, doing research about vampires because even though Derek assured him they didn't come down to the Americas because it was too warm and sunny, Stiles wasn't convinced. And Lydia had made everyone watch _Twilight_ again the other night.

His dad, who usually knocks and waits for Stiles to open the door, just barged in and was half-way through asking about the difference between basil and parsley, and Stiles had just enough time to yank the covers up on his and Derek's bodies, when his head snapped up and he just stopped mid-sentence.

Derek woke up when he felt the blanket hit his always too-warm skin and froze when his eyes landed on the Sheriff and at least, Stiles thought, he had the decency to look startled.

"Downstairs. _Now_," were the only words his dad could force out between his teeth. He slammed the door and stomped down the stairs and Stiles was suddenly a flailing mess. Derek was just as calm and collected as ever.

The teen was pulling on pajama bottoms and a random tee (which he discarded after Derek pointed out that going downstairs in Derek's clothing wasn't going to help matters and grabbed his Captain America shirt instead) and throwing boxers and jeans at the werewolf who was _still just sitting on his bed_.

"Do you realize I'm dead? He's going to shoot me. No, wait," Stiles rambled, trying to force clothes on Derek. "He's going to shoot you. And I'm just really glad that my boyfriend has supernatural healing powers and, oh God, he's going to find out that his only son is having sex with a werewolf!"

Stiles didn't really understand why Derek was just staring at him, face all stunned and beautiful, instead of pulling his boxers on. Clearly, he didn't realize the serious trouble they just landed in.

And then there was a loud "_Stiles!_" from down the stairs and Stiles definitely didn't squeak. But at least his dad's yelling had Derek dressing himself finally.

When they got downstairs, his dad had the rifle sitting on the coffee table and if he hadn't just been found naked in bed with an older man, Stiles probably would have laughed. He didn't. They just shuffled over to the small couch, thighs touching when they sat until his dad glared at the lack of space.

It wasn't as bad as Stiles thought it would be. Okay, it was, but it could've been worse. His dad could have picked the rifle up and shot Derek. Instead, his dad just made an embarrassingly sweet speech about how, if Derek hurt his son, he wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet through him and that Derek should really remember that he's the Sheriff and he has connections. And then he turned to Stiles and said that he knew Stiles had been gay when, at age of six, he'd asked Santa for a pair of heels. Which is not an okay thing to say in front of the guy Stiles was having sex with. Not okay.

Derek actually got to use the front door, though. Even if he did just turn around and climb back into Stiles' bedroom window.

* * *

Their first kiss had been Derek's move. Stiles had been lounging on his couch in the Hale house (which had not been even half-restored then; the only new thing was the roof because the first time the pack got rained on, Lydia had an absolute fit) and doing research on the Argents, per Allison's request. Something about wanting to know all the facts about her family or something. Stiles hadn't really been paying attention, only hearing the words "Stiles, I need to you to research my family, please?"

Jackson, Isaac, Scott, and Boyd were outside practicing combat or whatever while Danny watched and the girls were upstairs talking about, y'know, girl things. Derek lifted Stiles' legs and put them on his lap when he sat down and Stiles laughed.

"You should really invest in some more furniture," he remembers saying. Because, seriously, when one has a pack of five boys and three girls, one needs more than a three-person couch and two chairs.

"Is there anything you and Lydia won't complain about?" Derek growled.

Stiles shrugged. "I could think of a few things_ I _wouldn't complain about." And he most certainly did not glance at Derek's mouth. But Derek was suddenly shoving the laptop and books off of the teen's lap and leaning over him and then suddenly his lips were pressed against Stiles' and Stiles' brain stopped functioning. Which is a little sad, he's ready to admit, considering there was no tongue or touching. Just lips against lips.

And all-too-soon Derek was pulling away and walking up the stairs to check on the girls or brood in his room and Scott was jogging into the room with Danny in tow.

* * *

"That was embarrassing," Stiles whispered as Derek's lips found his neck, laying on top of Stiles. "And, by the way, if you repeat that Santa story to anyone, I will stuff Wolfsbane down your throat."

Derek chuckled against his skin and his hot breath had Stiles shivering. "I wasn't planning on it. And it wasn't even that bad."

Stiles was torn between wanting Derek to stop so that they could stop and having Derek continue pulling his pajama pants down.

"Does this mean I can mark you on visible skin?" Derek hummed, mouthing his way up and down Stiles' chest. Stiles had never allowed him to leave hickeys above the waist, fearing that one day he'd forget about the marks and take his shirt off in front of the pack or the lacrosse team and that would be bad.

"No!" Stiles gasped out but he felt Derek sucking on his neck anyway and, really, who was he to argue? Derek pushed his pants down and pulled them off and Stiles silently thanked himself for not putting on underwear when Derek's fingers found his dick.

* * *

Stiles figured the next one to find out would be Erica or Lydia. Because they were made of pure evil and had a way of getting information out of people. And plus they were eyeing the hickey Derek had left on his neck. He thought it was going to happen when they started talking to him about how they were totally okay with how Danny was gay and that even Jackson would be okay if they found out someone else in the pack was batting for the other team and Stiles wasn't breathing. But Allison butted in and started talking about how Isaac seemed like the type and Stiles could've kissed her. But he just didn't expect it to be Scott. Because, as he said before, Scott was oblivious. Scott noticed _nothing_ if it didn't have the words "Allison," "pack training," or "Allison."

But there they were, Scott pinning Stiles to his locker in the locker room and eyes burning amber. "Why do you smell like Derek?"

And Stiles tried to laugh it off, saying that he'd been staying the night there a lot lately on accident, falling asleep doing research or talking to Isaac. Which wasn't untrue. But Scott's eyes found the hickey and Stiles knew it was no use.

"Oh my God."

"Scott."

"Oh my _God_," his puppy-eyed friend breathed out. And, yeah, Stiles was freaking out.

"Scott, I'm sorry. It just happened. Okay, well, not _just_ but it was sudden and I was scared and I'm really sorry -"

"Finally!"

"But I'm not breaking it off because I think I love him and wait, what?"

"I said finally! I figured out why you've been so secretive. Allison said you probably had a secret relationship, but I thought she was kidding," Scott laughed. And Stiles was glad, ten minutes later when they were in the diner in town and eating curly fries and burgers, that Scott was Scott and he hadn't realized Stiles had mentioned the word love.

* * *

"So I'm your boyfriend?" Derek asked as he stared at the hickey approvingly as they cuddled. Yes, Derek freaking Hale cuddled. It was nice.

"Mm, what?" Stiles replied sleepily. Derek had taken his time with Stiles this time. Not that they were always wham-bam-thank-you-m'am. They had slow and soft sex just as much as rough and against-a-wall sex. But this had been extra slow. Derek had slid in slowly and had kissed Stiles' lips while he pulled out and pushed back in. Even when they were both close to coming completely undone, Derek kept the pace slow. It was probably the best orgasm Stiles had had. And in the past four months, he's had a lot.

"Before we went to talk to your dad, you called me your boyfriend." Derek said, voice soft. He pressed a kiss to Stiles' shoulder before Stiles turned out, facing the werewolf.

"Is that bad?" he asked. He hadn't meant to say boyfriend, it had just slipped out and he'd hoped it had gone unnoticed by Derek. But Derek wasn't Scott and Stiles was still trying to get used to someone actually paying attention the first time he said something.

"I could think of worst things to be called." Stiles was pressing kisses to Derek's jaw and Derek could hear his heartbeat picking up at the conversation. "But no, it's not bad. At all."

He felt Stiles' smile.

* * *

**Woo, first Teen Wolf fiction! But, uh, my life right now is Sterek, Destiel, and Delena (mostly Sterek) and everything hurts and everything is beautiful and I'm not even mad. And I'm sorry for not writing in forever. But these past twelve months have been insane. I've moved three times, I was without internet for about four or five months (which is good; I wouldn't have gotten into Teen Wolf if I hadn't had to fill my time with my friends and their constant talk of Tyler Posey and Dylan O'Brien and Tyler Hoechlin). And I also dropped out of school due to bullying, but all is well now and I'm back in school and working on my goals to become a writer/actress (fun goals!) and should hopefully be able to write more now! /endlifestory. This is pure fluff and I'm pretty proud and I hope you guys like it and ignore this last paragraph of my life lololol**

**P.S. I have really bad luck with the paragraph/line breaks thing (y'know, the gray horizontal lines? What are they even called?) so I'm sorry if part of the next paragraph got stuck in the previous one. I checked, and it doesn't look like any did. But my luck is, like I said, really very bad. And also, you should really listen to "Animal" covered by Secondhand Serenade. May or may not have been listening to that while writing. This version is like the Sterek theme song in my head. And just yeah.**


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